


Beside Me

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Episode Related, First Times, M/M, None - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:02:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair's back from the dead, and he and Jim settle the past and look to the future<br/>This story is a sequel to Turn Around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beside Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is an epilogue to "I'm Here" and "Turn Around". Blair wanted to have the last word on life after his death. Like the previous two stories, this makes mention of fourth season episodes - specifically here, Dead End On Blank Street.

## Beside Me

by JC

Author's webpage: <http://www.skeeter63.org/jayci/>

Author's disclaimer: The characters from the TV series "The Sentinel" are not my property, and I am not making money off of them. That's all I have to say.

* * *

BESIDE ME by J.C. 

We probably present a pretty strange picture. Two grown men sitting close to one another on the sand, bundled up against the cold, staring straight out at the water. We are close enough that our arms are touching, and our fingertips are brushing against each other, half-buried in damp, coarse grains. 

And it feels good. 

Him beside me. 

It feels perfect. 

Especially since there's no chance a certain someone will come running along, thighs flashing, gun waving, hormones raging. 

Strange that we ended up on a beach. Don't know what it is about Jim and me and water. 

I thought that I would have nightmares about the drowning, hellish dreams about water filling my nose and throat. But instead, all of my dreams have been variations on the jungle vision... the black jaguar and the wolf... lush, powerful scenes of merging... 

Still, between the fountain and the grotto, we haven't exactly been lucky with water. 

But, the sight of the water in front of us now soothes me. It's so still; it's almost like a photograph. Jim can probably see the perpetual motion stemming from the horizon, rippling towards the shore. But to me, it just seems deep and calm, like my spirit these past few days. 

When Jim kissed me, I wasn't even surprised. Though I should have been. I wasn't expecting it, and we were at a crime scene, after all. But I was _ready_ for it. Had been for far too long. 

I had come back to get him out of there. I wasn't sure of everything that had been going through his head concerning Veronica, but she was gone, and he had made mistakes, and I didn't want him standing there, living in it too long. 

Time to move on. 

I guess he had realized it, too, because he just turned around and kissed me. And I could feel the shift, as things got pushed around, rearranged, and locked into place. No more questions... only answers. 

We walked out together to find Simon still waiting, leaning against his car, a concerned look on his face as he fiddled with a cigar. He asked Jim if he was okay, and Jim nodded - hand now on my shoulder, but his fingers still grazing the back of my neck. But we should probably tell you something, he said. And that _did_ surprise me. I mean, _we_ hadn't even talked, and there he was quietly telling Simon about how we felt, and how much we had almost lost, and his hope for the future, as the last of the investigators left the scene. And even though he hadn't yet said those things to _me_ , somehow it seemed right. 

I didn't think it was possible to love him more. I was wrong. 

I have to give Simon credit for not having a heart attack on the spot, blindsided as he was, but maybe he simply thought Jim was delirious, suffering side effects from the crazy case we had just wrapped up. He blinked a few times, and told me to get him home, take care of him. I'm not sure what to expect the next time he bellows for us to get in his office. 

The past few days have been kinda strange, but in a good way. Just not how I imagined it would play out. Not how I pictured our first kiss, or Jim telling me he loved me for the first time. We've talked through all of those things he told Simon about. Getting a feel for what's been in each other's heads. Amazing what you assume, especially about someone you think you know well. For all we got right, we missed a lot. That's what comes from years of evading some much-needed conversation. 

But we remedied that situation. 

When Jim had his hand on my thigh, on the way home that night, squeezing it gently every now and then, I thought the first thing we would do was get naked, and get to know each a little more intimately. I know that's what was on _my_ mind. But, instead, we talked. 

And that was good, because there were some things I needed to hear, and not in the heat of passion. He did that for me - talked to me for a few days. It didn't look like it pained him too much - having to use all of those words. Plus, I let him use his hands as much as he wanted. He needed that... the touching. 

And the kissing. 

He kissed me a lot. A whole lot. Out of the blue sometimes. He explained it to me... about the taste thing. I don't want to think about my 'dead' taste, and I surely don't want him to have it on _his_ mind. So I let him get his fill. 

So, we've talked it out - declared our love, if you will. But even though we've fallen asleep in each other's arms for two nights, we still haven't... you know... consummated it. 

Don't worry. Tonight is my night, bro. 

We decided to do one last thing. That's how we ended up sitting on the beach, in the cold, watching the sun set across deep, calm water. It started as kind of a joke, really. I said that we should write down something on a rock, some issue or fact that we had resolved, and go down and toss it in the ocean. A sort of symbolic 'letting go'. I have to admit that I sorta liked the idea of tossing _Alex Barnes_ into some water. Jim said instead we should write something down on a piece of paper, something we had learned from all of this, put it in a bottle and send it on its way. Our way of passing on a life's lesson since we probably would never have kids to share our wisdom with. 

We settled on coming here, and just saying one thing to each other. A sort of closing remark, opening line all rolled up in one. You know, turning the last page on some things, but beginning a whole new book. 

I don't think we really thought about the coincidence of being at a beach, or finding ourselves near water...again. This is just one of Jim's favorite spots, and I wanted to do this somewhere in the outside world, not in the insulated world we create in the loft. 

I look at him, and he smiles a little Ellison smile. I'm pleased to say that I've seen all the degrees of that smile, from sweet, to smug, to sexy, and I love each one. I smile back, a shiver traveling through me... and it has nothing to do with the cool temperature. He takes my hand, rubbing sand lightly across my palm with a finger, and now I'm shaking. 

"You first, Chief," he says softly. 

I clear my throat, and look him in the eye. "Life's too short for bullshit. You gotta get to it, and just do it." 

He laughs. Rich, deep, rumbling. "You're too much, Chief." Then, he kisses me. His warm lips displacing the cold air between us, and I close my eyes at how right it feels, and how in just two days it's become so familiar. 

When we separate, I speak. "Your turn, man." 

I grin and shake my head when he copies me and clears his throat too, looking into _my_ eyes. 

"Love _can_ be something that you see, hear, smell, touch and taste." He rubs his thumb across my lower lip, then brushes the sand away with his sleeve. "You just have to be smart enough to let your heart guide you." 

Not bad for a gruff, anal, uptight cop. And he's _all_ mine. 

Okay, enough small talk. The sun is dropping below the horizon, and I've got other things I want to do tonight. 

"Come on, Jim. Let's go home." 

I stand, reaching out, and I'm pulled against him as he rises. And this kiss is not about reaffirmation. It's about promises. Loving, lusty promises. 

"Yeah, home," he whispers. 

His tongue is doing crazy things to my ear, and I pull away, filled with the need to get back to the loft... or hell, at least to the truck. 

So we can be alone and get to it. 

And finally... just _do_ it. 

**THE END**


End file.
